


the stars i chase mean nothing (without you)

by Xephonia



Category: Fallen London | Echo Bazaar
Genre: Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Other, Seeking Mr Eaten's Name, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xephonia/pseuds/Xephonia
Summary: Nothing lasts forever, except for loss.





	the stars i chase mean nothing (without you)

**Author's Note:**

> i took a shitton of liberties with canon so i guess this qualifies as canon divergence with a grain of spoiler

Veils still doesn't quite know what to do with the enormous amount of space he's been given by the Bazaar.

(Space that's still not enough to spread his wings; space that's still way more than he's had before.)

It's been almost century by now, and not much has changed about Veils' chambers.

The black walls, the black furniture; the piles of silks in quantities that are hard to keep track of at all.

Not much has changed, except for the recent addition of the constant danger of burning his cloak because Candles keeps setting up tealights in his rooms, saying it's "more inviting that way".

Which, as Veils has to admit, it indeed is; but when you trade with fabrics, constantly having the risk burning them is quite unnerving.

Unnerving is a good word for Candles himself generally, too.

_Speaking of Candles, what's he up to?_

Not that Veils cares, but if anything in the Neath is routine, it's Candles not letting him sleep in because _hey, Veils, is vanilla or pumpkin scent better?_ and _do you think I should offer mushroom-shaped candles?_ , to the point where Veils wakes up on his own five minutes before Candles would knock.

So he pulls out the gloves out of a drawer, pulls out a second pair for Candles— because Candles keeps buying new ones regularly, so as to avoid harming the wax.

Veils would consider it a trade, but trade between Masters barely qualifies as one, given their amount of resources.

He's about to knock at Candles' door, but it already opens the slightest bit.

(Candles' hearing is scary good.)

"Sorry. Did you want me to wake you?" Candles half-heartedly fixes his hood upon seeing Veils' frown. 

(This is why there are rumours that the Masters are all giant bats. Which isn't exactly wrong.)

Veils shakes his head. "As if." He pulls out the gloves. "Did you need new ones?"

Candles enthusiastically nods. "Reliable as always, Veils."

_What kind of impression does this guy have of me?_

Even after a century, Veils can't read Candles at all. Unnerving.

If Candles notices Veils rolling his eyes, he likely doesn't mind.

Candles takes the gloves, discards the old wax-stained ones, and Veils notes that the stains feature more than one color, which is unusual and hints at—

"Working on something special?"

Candles smiles. "Secret."

Not a good sign. It's gonna be something stupid.

"You're gonna like it," Candles adds, as if knowing Veils' thoughts.

Veils gives him an amused yet doubtful look. "If you say so."

Candles stretches himself and walks out of his room. "But now, breakfast. Wanna eat with Apples and Wines?"

Veils is very much inclined to decline despite liking Apples while not in company of Candles, if only because Apples will inevitably—

"Hey, you two lovebats. Up this early?" Apples, of course.

_Wonderful._

Veils thinks of a thousand angry remarks, realizes it'll make things worse and instead opts for saying nothing and looking at Candles.

(It's too early in the morning for diplomacy.)

Candles just shrugs it off. "That joke never gets old."

"Don't encourage him," Veils mutters under his breath.

Apples blinks. "Joke? Was there any?"

Candles laughs lightly. "Anyway, let's eat, shall we?"

~*~

Around a week later, Candles knocks at Veils' door in the middle of the night.

Veils doesn't have what people would call a deep sleep, so he's awake to hear it and opens, barely fixing his hood beforehand.

"I'm done!"

"Done with w—"

Veils doesn't react fast enough and Candles enters his room, setting up a candle on his table. 

"It's very accurate to detail," says Candles, "Though I suppose it's cheating given who arranged the candles here in the first place."

A perfect wax replica of Veils' bedroom. With tiny tealights where the actual candles are.

Veils blinks. Then he blinks again. Then. "Why?"

"It's been a century now, and we're good friends, and I don't know when your birthday is and you keep giving me a 90% discount on gloves and—"

"No. _Why_?" 

"What, why?"

"Your ulterior motive?" Veils crosses his arms.

"None." Candles scratches the back of his head. "Should there be any?"

Veils shakes his head slowly. "No."

"So, do you like it?"

_Yes, yes, I do, don't make me say it._

Veils looks back at the candle, at how Candles made an effort to even replicate the main silks that always lie around in his room and—

"I'm taking your smile as a yes." Candles pulls off Veils' hood. "Wow, I didn't know your eyes are green. You should leave your hood down more often."

Veils yanks his hood back up. "Right. And risk entertaining more rumors."

"Killjoy." Candles stifles a yawn.

"Go sleep."

"Speaking of sleep. How come you're still awake, Veils?"

"None of your business." Veils crosses his arms.

"That answer's just like you." Candles laughs.

Veils isn't sure how comfortable he is with someone knowing him this well.

~*~

As Veils walks the streets a few days later, he feels something tugging at his hood.

"Huh?"

When he turns around, he catches a glimpse of a kid running away, heard hushed whispers about how they 'should try with the other Masters first'.

"Candles," Veils sighs and first heads to his chambers, before tracking down Candles.

~*~

"Hello, Veils." Candles has that black cat on his right shoulder again.

Veils can't stand the cat, and the feeling's mutual. The cat never talks around him.

The cat hisses, Veils hisses back. The cat jumps off of Candles' shoulder and leaves the room.

Candles laughs. "You'd think my best bat friend and my best cat friend would get along, but apparently it won't be that easy."

"That's not what I came here for." Veils scowls and rummages for the ribbon he'd made in his chambers, then holds it out to Candles. "This."

"You didn't have to gift me something back, Veils." Candles smiles.

"It wasn't meant to be that way, you—"

"I know, I know. You want me to wear my hood properly."

"Yeah."

"Alright then." Candles glances at Veils. "Oh, you made us match. Nice."

Veils would love to go on about how it's easier and more functional, but instead he watches as Candles unties Veils' own ribbon, and re-ties it.

"Huh?"

"The strings' lengths were uneven." Candles smiles. "By the way, that's silk, isn't it? It's nice."

Candles takes a certain interest in Veils' trade. Veils has yet to figure out why.

Veils blinks and proceeds to return the favor, standing on tiptoe as he does.

(Why is Candles so _tall_?)

"Thanks." Candles chuckles when he looks down at Veils' feet. 

"Don't say a word."

"Milk might—"

"Not a word."

"I was kidding."

Veils laughs lightly. "I know."

That doesn't mean Veils doesn't get mad ever so slightly when his height is brought up, anyway.

But he's learning. In a few decades, he'll have mastered the art of diplomacy.

Maybe.

~*~

"You know," says Wines when they are at the dinner table for the monthly Masters dinner, "the Bazaar never specified that the touching love stories have to be between humans."

He winks at Candles, then at Veils, and exchanges a knowing look with Apples.

Whatever they think they know, they clearly do not.

From the corner of his eye, Veils can see Pages nodding enthusiastically, Cups hiding a chuckle, and Spices looking at the ribbons in vague amusement.

_Maybe this was a bad idea._

"You're totally right," says Candles, smiling.

Veils has to prevent himself from accidentally spitting out his drink. 

"What?"

"Don't you think Wines and Spices make a good match?"

That abruptly ends that conversation, with Candles humming contently.

~*~

"Why do you have so many pets?"

Veils watches as Candles plays with his cheerful goldfish.

For a certain definition of playing, anyway.

(It's really just Candles holding a candle in front of the bowl and watching the fish swim up and down. Cheerfully.)

"They're good company," says Candles, tossing in some peas. "On Polythreme, they say goldfish keep nightmares off."

"Do you have nightmares?" Veils tilts his head.

"Don't we all?"

Point taken.

Veils nods, more to himself than anything. 

"That's why I woke you up in the first place, back at the start."

"Eh?"

"You were screaming in your sleep." Candles offers Veils some peas to toss into the bowl.

Veils takes them. "So that was why you keep trying to buy me pets."

"Yeah. I think Wines noticed, too. He keeps saying we should go drink with you."

Veils thinks he needs to work on his perception. "I could always take Laudanum."

"You wouldn't, I know you." Candles smiles.

Veils scowls. "Whatever."

~*~

Sometimes, Veils chases cats at night.

Not like there are many, but they can keep up with his speed, which is something at least.

(Clearly the lack of opportunities to hunt is a downside of the neath.)

It helps him unwind in an environment with a constant level of surveillance and nightmares that make sleeping hard.

(Maybe that's just an excuse.)

Sometimes, Candles' cat will watch. Veils never goes for that one. 

There's no point to it, it just glares at him anyway.

Tonight is different.

"He's looking for you."

"I don't care." Veils frowns in the general direction of the cat. "What does he want in the middle of the night anyway?"

"Something about trying prisoner's honey to help with your nightmares." The cat licks its paws.

Veils hisses, more to himself than anything, and heads back for the Bazaar.

~*~

Candles already awaits him at the entrance.

Candles smiles. "So you were the one who's been making the cats all worried." He holds out Veils' cloak with one hand, holds a candle with the other.

"I didn't kill any." Veils takes the cloak, reluctantly so.

(He really didn't kill any, except for that one time where he didn't pay attention. The cat may or may not have said something rude before. He may or may not be craving the hunt.)

"I know." Candles makes his way back in. "They just said they noticed your scent on me. So they wanted to know what was up. They call you the Vake."

"The Vake?"

Candles shrugs. "Cats."

Veils sighs. "Cats."

~*~

When Veils wakes up the next day, he doesn't remember much.

He does remember taking a spoonful of prisoner's honey and not having nightmares for once. 

He does not remember what he actually did at all in the dream.

_Odd._

When he brings it up at breakfast with Wines— Candles has excused himself to help the churches out with stocking up on candles— Wines shrugs. "Maybe the dosage was high. Maybe you slept within the dream. You said Candles was there, right? Maybe he added Laudanum. It's not like it matters, as long as it helped. You keep waking everyone here up, it was about time someone helped you."

"Laudanum, huh." It did help.

Veils glares and downs more fruit— he doesn't trust meat he didn't hunt himself.

From across the table, Apples happily eats steak.

_Ugh._

~*~

"Sorry about the Laudanum," Candles says later that day. "Just prisoner's honey wouldn't have done it."

Veils sighs. "Tell me next time. And..."

"And?"

Veils wants to say 'Thank you'.

Instead. "Do you have more of that?"

Candles nods. "I can't use it myself anymore, so you can have my leftovers."

Veils blinks. "Why?"

"Developed a tolerance. Be careful."

~*~

The second city is the worst.

At first, it was just the cats. The cats were annoying, but Candles liked them, and Veils figured that maybe the Bazaar would finish whatever business she had fast so they could get out of there.

Now it's been almost a millennium and nothing moves anywhere.

Stagnation is Veils' worst enemy, it's like being unable to breathe, _like cold hands closing in on his neck and—_

Veils wakes up from another nightmare, bathed in sweat.

It's getting worse. The Laudanum barely holds off hallucinations and hunting cats doesn't do it anymore, either. (Too many cats— inexperienced cats.)

_Different prey._

Veils would rather avoid cannibalism, for some semblance of morals.

_Humans it is, then._

(Preferably ones Candles wouldn't miss.)

~*~

"The Vake is hunting humans now, I heard," says Wines at dinner table, casually yet very determinedly looking in Veils' direction.

"It probably makes for good love stories." Candles doesn't look at anyone.

Iron scribbles on a piece of paper. 'ARE YOU. IMPLYING WHAT I THINK YOU ARE.'

"Who knows." Candles finishes up his food or, doesn't, really, because he deposited all of his fruit on Veils' plate already.

Veils wants to say something, but it gets stuck in his throat.

'WE'LL HAVE TO REPORT THAT,' writes Iron.

_Let's not._

Veils doesn't say that, either.

~*~

Built up energy is hard to deal with.

Veils is almost surprised he didn't get his horse killed yet, a matter of high self-control.

The walls are covered in scratches though.

(But he has not been the Vake, so that's that.)

For some reason, bodies are still turning up, all Vake-hunters.

~*~

A few nights later, Candles stumbles into Veils' rooms without knocking, without a cloak and covered in blood.

"What were you—"

Candles shakes his head. "Later. Do you have your cider with you?"

Veils nods and offers him the firkin.

Candles' expression eases up immediately. "Thanks."

"Now tell me what you were doing."

"Making sure they don't find you."

"Who?"

"Did you think they didn't realize it's you?"

"So you were—"

"Posing as the Vake, yes." Candles sighs. "I can't hunt. How do you even do this?" He looks at his claws, neatly trimmed for easier handling of candles. "—That's probably how, isn't it?" He laughs lightly.

"You weren't supposed to do this."

"It makes for terrible love stories if all involved parties get eaten by a bat. The Bazaar wouldn't like it."

Veils nods slowly. "So why? Now you have the trouble."

"We're friends, right?"

_This is bad._

~*~

As the city and the nightmares become increasingly unbearable, Veils considers hunting again.

(He does once, but Candles immediately starts acting as a second Vake to distract those pursuing Veils. No point.)

He's sitting in a corner of a local pub when a man approaches him, fearlessly so.

Veils doesn't look up until he hears the voice.

"You seem like you need a vacation, Mr Veils." A wink, rich clothing and lingering sadness. The king of the first city, now only known as the Manager.

The first centuries, the man had just grieved. The fall of the second city gave him an opportunity to start over. Now he has a spacious inn where he keeps those whose sanity is crumbling. 

_Perhaps it distracts him from his own woes_ , Veils muses.

"Do I really look like I require that type of assistance?"

The Manager just smiles. "It's just an offer."

Veils determinedly shakes his head. "I'll pass."

~*~

In his dreams, Veils is hunted by himself, as the Vake. Mercilessly and menacingly and without a single care in the world.

Prey.

Prey of what he has become.

(Of what he's always been.)

"That's nonsense," he tells himself. "I'm fine."

Candles sits by his bedside. "You don't seem fine."

Veils has to blink to be sure he isn't hallucinating. ( _Anymore? again?_ , who knows.) "Since when are you here?"

"Since you started screaming."

The genuine concern irritates Veils. 

"I'll be gone for a few days."

~*~

It turns out that the Manager had already prepared a room for him.

A luxurious room, all black with a lot of cushions, almost outshining his luxury at the Bazaar.

(Veils hates himself for having to ask for candles because he can't feel at ease without.)

Everything is calming, except for Candles' cat in the corner.

 _Is it really there?_ Veils wouldn't know.

"Is he okay?", Veils asks.

"They want to kill him." The cat licks its paws.

Definitely a hallucination.

"They wouldn't." Veils turns around.

"That's right. They want you to do it. In exchange for a city."

Veils hisses at the cat, the cat hisses back and leaves.

Veils tightens his claws around his ribbon. Calming. Somewhat.

His subconscious is scary. _There's no way the Bazaar or the Masters would let this happen, right?_

(...Right?)

~*~

The massive amounts of people thinking they're on the surface and eating stars and judgements-know-what are having a sobering effect on Veils.

He doesn't want to be like them, and it eases his doubts into soft unsettlement, until he can be genuinely annoyed by them again.

When he returns to the Bazaar, he is confronted by Spices, Pages and Iron.

(An odd match.)

'WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN.'

"I needed a break." Veils tries to walk on, but Spices stops him.

"We need to talk, I'm afraid. Elsewhere."

~*~

The cat didn't lie.

Veils has to deal with seven whole hours of Pages reciting the results of last week's meetings, all of which came down to 'The third city's priest-kings will take the flesh of one of us as a sufficient exchange. We all decided that that should be Candles, for actually liking this place and being the Vake.'

"But I am the Vake," Veils says, to no one's surprise. "Why Candles?"

"You're shorter," says Apples, who'd replaced Iron halfway in 'because he was worried Iron would kill Veils and totally not out of curiosity'. "They're only taking a piece, but it's easier to take a piece of a tall person, right?" A smile. Eerie and confident.

Apples would have experience with that, though.

Veils feels like he should protest that if it's about height, Mr Marble might be more appropriate, but the gazes tell him that's it's about something else.

"It's about dreams, isn't it?"

Spices is smiling. Veils clenches his fist and feels his claw piercing his skin.

Veils thinks he should do something, anything; but at the same time, he never asked to be friends.

He never asked to be in Candles' debt.

Isn't Candles' liking for the second city what got him into this mess to begin with?

"And why do I have to do it?"

"The Bazaar questions your allegiances. They seem to lie with Candles as opposed to the mission. And besides, don't you want to get out of here as soon as possible?"

So that's what it is. Two bats with one stone, huh.

"Isn't this decision a bit rushed?" Veils frowns.

Their gazes rest on him, some almost sympathetic.

 _It's true_ , Veils knows. _He's the only thing between me and my freedom.. Nothing is worth sacrificing my freedom._

Veils hadn't realized he'd said that out loud until Wines nods. "It'll turn out fine."

Veils can't breathe. "I'll do it."

_Become the Vake. Be the Vake. Stay the Vake._

Greedy, ravenous, cruel. Opportunistic. Chained by nothing.

Especially not a fleeting dream of a friendship.

He didn't need friends back then. Why would he now?

~*~

The night before, seven knocks at his door. It's Candles, Veils knows.

He can't face him.

Candles enters anyway. "I know you're awake."

A pause.

Veils stays still, eyes pressed shut.

Candles keeps going. "Let's go for a walk."

"Fine." Veils sighs and gets up, ties his ribbon lazily. Candles fixes it immediately. "You aren't acting like yourself."

The person known as Mr Veils is shaped by his encounters with a certain Mr Candles.

What's left without him?

The Vake, perhaps.

Veils shrugs. "You're imagining it."

~*~

Today, it's stormy at the sundered shore.

If Veils didn't know better, he'd say that the weather conspired with his conscience in a shitty attempt to make him feel worse, but  
Candles seems unfazed, placing 7 candles in a circle around them before they settle down in the sand. 

"It looks pretty," Veils says, and he feels like suffocating.

Candles laughs. "Don't force yourself."

"You know, don't you?"

"Spices and Wines are arguing over who gets the domain of dreams, for some reason. So yes, I know. Somewhat?" Candles scratches the back of his neck. "Marble said something about them only taking a piece, so I don't know what to believe. Or for that matter, why we can't just cut out a piece now."

Veils' hands tremble. He digs his claws deep into the sand. "They wouldn't lie, right." 

Candles smiles. "They would omit details. Don't we all?"

Veils inhales air sharply.

"All shall be well," says Candles, tentatively scooting closer by the slightest fraction. "and all manner of thing shall be well. You wouldn't turn against me."

_Would I?_

Veils doesn't realize it's a rhetorical question until Candles lets himself fall backwards. "The waves are calming."

Veils nods. He opens his mouth and closes it again, unsure of what to say.

Then.

"Some humans have sworn off wishing upon stars."

"Rightfully so," Veils adds quietly.

"So they throw their wishes into wells."

"They drown their wishes?"

Candles nods. "Nothing ever leaves the bottom of a well. That's the most definite way to make something eternal. It's also a way to part with it."

"Nothing lasts forever." Veils looks around. "But until these candles go out..."

~*~

Nothing lasts forever, except for loss.

 _I can't bear to lose my freedom forever_ , Veils tells himself. _I never wanted this friendship in the first place. I don't need this._

The strongest survives, right? So if Candles doesn't survive this, it's not Veils' fault.

That's supposed to be the truth. The truth of the Great Chain. It's only natural for Veils to want to go back to chasing stars and what lies beneath, to hunt until he forgets why he's been hunting in the first place.

That's what his life has been, that's what his life was meant to be.

"This is but a minor inconvenience," Veils says firmly, staring at his reflection in the water, long after Candles has already gone.

_Yet why does my chest hurt?_

~*~

All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.

"Lies." Veils sobs over the well, screams, lets tears mingle with the blood coming from the scratches he and Candles left all over his body.

Before he drowned his wish to stay Mr Veils.

Before he drowned his only friend.

Before he drowned Candles.

Veils' hands are stained with blood. His own, Candles?

Not a clue. Does it matter? No.

The Vake will hunt tonight.

(Maybe he'll find his conscience and devour that, too.)

~*~

The rush of the hunt feels dull and empty now, but for Veils it's easier to think that he just is that awful of a person as opposed to being a coward.

Perhaps having spoken to Candles in the first place is what caused Veils' current misery.

'And whatever you do, don't fall in love.'

Maybe Veils fell in love with the idea of being content for once.

(There's no way it'd be about Candles.)

He's chewing on a vake-hunter's arm when a cat dashes past him, stealing a toe.

_Am I hallucinating?_

Veils blinks. Candles' cat is still staring at him. "I didn't think you'd sink that far," it says, and it disappears into the night.

Veils rushes after it.

~*~

The chase ends at a well.

Not just any well, but that well, still stained with blood.

The cat jumps down. A familiar, high-pitched and bat-like screech follows.

 _I'm hallucinating this_ , Veils tells himself.

When he turns around, the Manager is there.

Veils has never been this happy to see someone whose singular interest in him is his slipping sanity.

Perhaps going insane would be preferable.

~*~

The Manager pours Veils a cup of tea.

It's rare to get this much personal attention.

"He's not there, right," Veils points at the mirror, where he very much sees Candles.

The Manager smiles.

Veils nods. "The cat isn't, either, right."

The Manager looks into the direction of the cat without any prompting.

Bad.

_When did it enter?_

It's all wet, too.

Then.

"A reckoning will not be postponed indefinitely."

Veils moves away carefully. "Excuse me?"

"His words, not mine." The cat hisses.

The Manager softly shoos it out before turning back to Veils. "Just don't open the door. And avoid the mirror."

"I'll break it."

"A waste. But if you insist." The Manager clears his throat. "I've informed the other Masters. It seems Mr Wines will take care of matters."

Veils nods slightly. "What about C— Oh."

A smile. "I'll let you be for now."

As soon as the Manager leaves, Veils chugs down some Laudanum.

He still gets hunted by the Vake in his dreams that night, but this time it's Candles.

~*~

On the third day in the inn, Veils has his first pleasant dream after a long time.

(Maybe the Manager had mercy on him and spiked his drink with something nice? No, that's unlikely.)

As pleasant as a dream can be when it involves a person who would, in reality, probably want you dead.

In Veils' dreams, Candles looks like himself. Not like whatever Veils ended up throwing down that well.

(A dream? A memory? Who knows.)

It's just him in Candles' rooms, watching as Candles makes the most beautiful creations of wax. 

_It's a dream. If it's a dream, I can—_

Veils' voice trembles as he says, "Candles, I'm sorry."

There's a pause.

(It feels like a milennium.)

"You know," says Candles, eventually. "You're kind of messed up."

"Eh?" Veils carefully moves away. "I don't know what—"

Candles claws are at his throat now, the impact draining all air from Veils' lungs.

What makes Veils feel like suffocating? Maybe the stench of betrayal he's been giving off ever since he'd drowned Candles.

"You know very well, traitor."

Veils struggles to break free, but he can't. Candles drops him.

"It's curious though. How you're the only person who remembers me the way I was. You fiend, who traded me for a hope for freedom."

 _No wonder_ , thinks Veils, _because they did their best to remove all traces of you._

Candles can hear that apparently. He scowls. "I figured they would do this. I was willing to avoid them. I figured you'd just watch and nothing more. I figured I'd get over that. That you wouldn't help was fine by me. I didn't think you'd turn on me. I was wrong."

"What would you have done?!" Veils gets back to his feet. "Would you have given it all up for a single friendship?"

"Is that a serious question?"

Veils recalls Candles posing as the Vake, Candles shifting the blame off of Veils; Candles risking his life for Veils. Veils goes silent.

Candles tears off the ribbon around his neck. "I'd rather be forgotten than having you dream of being friends with me. And don't forget. A reckoning will not be postponed indefinitely. I'll devour you, just like you let them devour me."

~*~

Veils wakes up with his hand on fire, or rather, Candles' ribbon in his hand on fire.

He screeches and pours the remains of his Laudanum over his hand to extinguish the flames.

_Not like the rotten stuff works anymore, anyway._

On the tiny table, there's breakfast and a note written in Wines' neat handwriting.

Apparently Veils' room— specifically, the wax-copy of his room and the table it was on— caught fire, but they managed to extinguish it.

_I deserve this._

~*~

Before he agreed to— was made to, really— help the Bazaar, Veils was already the Vake. He didn't have a name, there was no necessity for one. But he was the Vake all the same.

Opportunistic, impatient, greedy, ravenous.

The person known as Mr Veils is but an accumulation of his experiences in the prison that is the Neath. A spacious prison, but a prison all the same.

Most of those experiences were shaped by the one who's now known as Mr Eaten.

That day, more than one person drowned.

~*~

"If it gets worse again, feel free to come here." The Manager winks as Veils walks through the door. "That room is reserved for you."

_The three months I spent here were more than enough._

Veils nods and fakes a smile. "I'd prefer if we keep my stays here a secret between the two of us."

The Manager raises an eyebrow in surprise. "—Of course. I see you've gotten better at this. I'll see you soon."

~*~

If Veils can't wash his hands clean, he'll keep them as dirty as possible.

He goes into the nearest pub, listens to the most recent rumours.

(To at least make it seem like he's been in touch with society, later.)

A group of people who call themselves the Seekers of the Name has emerged. Apparently, they don't do much beyond expressing interest in cannibalism, the Correspondence and getting themselves and their friends hurt.

Suspicious.

"A cat's with them, too," someone says. "Cat eats everything, keeps speaking of a reckoning."

 _His_ cat.

"The starveling cat, the starveling cat! Tells you a lie in every chat," Veils sing-songs, and the eyes turn upon him.

"Mr Veils!"

Compliments, invitations to honey-adventures. Questions as to his most recent whereabouts.

"My whereabouts bear no meaning to a fine evening like this one," he says, and he doesn't quite sound like himself. 

(But that's what it's supposed to be, right? Actually befriending anyone would be lethal. A look at Candles— no, Eaten— proves that.)

Veils goes on, "Let's forget about the wretched cat and its many owners, and speak of more delightful things."

~*~

It's rare to see Wines and Apples concerned, yet they are swarming around Veils like he's their best friend.

"After what happened to him—" Wines begins, but Veils interrupts.

"All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well. That's what we were promised. So it's fine. Well then, do we have a way of taking care of the Seekers yet?"

Apples shakes his head. "Most of them give up on their own. The most persistent ones are too elusive for us to interfere. Let them be, they seek for something that's dead anyway~" Cheerful as usual.

"I see." Veils smiles and takes off his ribbon. "I'll do that, then."

~*~

When Veils walks into Candles' room to pick up his remaining belongings, the first candle he brushes past burns up in flames.

_A warm welcome._

Veils chuckles bitterly at his thought, and moves to get the goldfish bowl as well as the silks and gloves. He leaves Fires to extinguishing the flames.

"He always had burnt sleeves," Veils says. "You might as well get used to it."

He rushes to his room, slams the door shut and hears himself cry.

If only he could hunt his weakness down, too.

~*~

"Eating all the Seekers is quite a macabre solution," Wines says, clearly proud of having figured out that the mysterious murders are indeed Veils' fault.

Not like it's particularly hard to guess when rumor has it that the Vake is back.

Veils doesn't look up from the new ribbon he's sewing, all different from the old one. "Dead men tell no tales."

"Your room sure looks scary without the candles."

"Don't bring those up and get to the point. What do you want?"

"Well, I've been quiet about your activities." Wines smiles. "So I figured, would you care to lend me some of your blood? It'd be lucrative for both of us."

~*~

Veils doesn't know how to care for animals.

(Evidently, he doesn't know how to care for anything else, either, but that's besides the point.)

Between offering fake smiles to the general populace, giving Wines blood and making any wells as inaccessible as possible, he let the goldfish die.

(It's not like Eaten can get any more mad.)

The day after, the fish corpse had vanished, with cat fur on the ground.

_Rotten cat._

~*~

Occasionally, Eaten still visits in Veils' nightmares.

Sinks his teeth into Veils' flesh, lets him bleed slowly; replicates the wounds that have been inflicted upon him on Veils' body.

"Every scar they put on my body, I will put on you, too."

The memory is scar enough, because Veils could never forget these dreams.

But the way Eaten drags his claw along Veils' collarbone is reminding Veils of how it felt when Candles would brush past it to fix up the ribbon, and perhaps that's what hurts the most.

(That ribbon belongs to the Vake now. After all, Eaten _does_ call him Vake-the-betrayer.)

Eaten makes a sound of displeasure. "You're not resisting."

"It's not like I can run."

Eaten scratches the number into Veils' flesh. "A reckoning—"

"—will not be postponed indefinitely. Assuming one of your seekers ever makes it past me." Veils laughs drily, Eaten presses down on his throat.

"What's wrong with you? Do you _enjoy_ this?"

"I _deserve_ it."

"Saying that is nothing like you." Eaten tears at Veils' skin until the tears flow, until he's just as weak as he was the day he'd drowned Candles and the tears sting in his open wounds.

~*~

Empty.

Empty is a good word to describe Veils' state ever since that incident.

The stars he chases leave his eyes dull and hopeless, no ambitions are carried within him.

Nothing lasts forever, except for loss.

The loss of the one being who had an interest in him as a person.

And eventually, Eaten stops coming at night.

At first, Veils enjoys the undisturbed sleep; the single day he managed to not think about it.

But soon, peace turns to boredom, and boredom turns to loneliness.

Veils didn't expect the loneliness to continue for two more cities.

~*~

"All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well." Veils rests his chin on the well.

From below, it echoes back. "A reckoning will not be postponed indefinitely."

"Right. Today's the day." 

"Liar, liar. Vake-the-liar."

The air feels thicker now. Maybe it's the prospect of throwing away what he'd betrayed Candles for in the first place; maybe it's the sensation of being betrayed by his own emotions that drag him down to certain destruction.

_It's only fair._

"You can devour me now," says Veils, leaning over the well. "Your judgement is kinder than mine."

He jumps.

**Author's Note:**

> pls help idk how to tag this  
> p.s. this is my 77th fic SEVEN IS THE NUMBER and all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be-


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